


Baked with Love and Sprinkles

by wumbo_requiem



Series: The Most Brutal Time of the Year: Dethmas [2]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Baking, Gen, M/M, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wumbo_requiem/pseuds/wumbo_requiem
Summary: Pickles comes bearing hot treats. It looks like Charles might spend his holidays a little differently this year.(Another one that needs an eventual second chapter/ sequel haha.)For The 12 Days of Dethmas - Dec 21: Making (and/or eating) holiday treats.
Relationships: Charles Foster Offdensen/Pickles the Drummer
Series: The Most Brutal Time of the Year: Dethmas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052465
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	Baked with Love and Sprinkles

It was a little past 9, and Charles was mentally checked out of work mode. He went about his nightly routine, tidying up his desk for the night, and putting aside the unfinished paperwork that he would resume in the morning. This holiday season he had just been _loaded_ with work, as he was every year, and he had already accepted the fact that he would be stuck in here while the band had their fun. He couldn’t  _ wait _ to wash up, get all the product out of his hair, put on his flannel jammies (it was cold, okay?), and tuck himself into his warm bed tonight. But just as he was about to leave, there was a knock on the door that stopped him in his tracks. 

“Hey, Chuck! Can I come in! I gaht something for ya!”

“Ah, sure Pickles!” Charles ran a hand through his hair as he sat back down behind his desk. He folded his hands on it and tried to act natural, as if he wasn’t ready to fall asleep. "Come on in." 

Pickles barged in with a big plate of hot cinnamon buns that Charles could smell from across the room. He carried them over to the desk and sat down across from Charles.

“I uh, made a whole bunch of these! The guys already ate most of ‘em. And me. I ate a laht of 'em, too,” he admitted shamefully. “Figured I’d, I dunno, save you a couple.”

Charles smiled, honestly touched. Nobody usually thought to save things for  _ him _ . “Oh, well, they look delicious.” He eyed them, and nothing seemed wrong with them  _ that he could see _ , so he took one. It was a regular cinnamon bun, topped with white frosting and a whole lot of sprinkles that looked like snowflakes and Christmas trees. It was warm, and cautiously, he took a bite. The icing melted in his mouth and the pastry crumbled. He closed his eyes momentarily. It was  _ so  _ good. 

“Hehe. Looks like you like ‘em. I’m glad,” Pickles said, sheepishly smirking.

Charles swallowed his bite and put the rest down. “Thanks for ah, thinking of me, Pickles. That was very considerate.” 

The drummer twiddled his fingers. “Nah, it’s nothin’. I knew you’d be in here workin’ and I didn’t want you to miss out.” Suddenly Pickles looked kind of sad. “You  _ are _ gonna take some time off though, aren’t you?”

Charles nibbled on his bun a little more- it was too good to just have it sitting there- and frowned. “I wish I could, but you know I have to do my  _ job _ , Pickles. I don’t get to stop just because it’s the holidays.”

“But you wouldn’t want to miss out on openin’ presents with us on Christmas morning!”

“Pickles,” Charles sighed.

“Chuck!” Pickles sounded desperate, “just hang out with us this once. I  _ prahmise _ it’ll be worth it.” 

“Hmph. Well I guess since you’re my boss, I technically have to listen to you,” Charles reasoned with a shrug. Secretly, he wanted to join in on the fun, but was too reserved to admit it outright. He was actually surprised Pickles wanted him to join, too. After all, wasn’t he just the boring manager to them?

“I’m naht askin’ as yer  _ boss _ . I’m askin’ as yer  _ friend _ .”

‘Friend’. Charles blinked at him, letting the word reverberate around in his skull.  _ ‘Friend’ _ . It caught him off guard, mid-bite. He swallowed drily. 

“Oh, uh, right. Sure, then. I’ll hang out with you boys that morning.”

Pickles grinned. “Aw, yes! It’s gonna be a  _ laht of fun _ , don’t worry. And I think I saw a present under the tree fer you~”

“Really?” Charles asked, oblivious, “From whom?”

“That’s a  _ secret _ , chief,” he said with a sly wink.

Charles felt heat rush to his cheeks, as he had a pretty good idea who it could be. And he didn’t even have anything special for Pickles… he had to change that in the few days he had left to prepare. But what did you get for, well,  _ Pickles _ ?

Pickles was munching on one of his own creations. Charles noticed that he ate the sprinkles and icing off the top first, then the bun. Which was kind of sweet. 

“They’re not bad, eh?” Pickles said through a mouthful of sugar.

Charles chuckled despite himself. “Yes, they’re quite good. You’ve got, ah…” he trailed off, pointing to the bit of icing caught in Pickles’ beard.

“What?” Pickles asked.

“You’ve got some icing on your face there.”

Pickles swiped the area with his tongue, looking to the ceiling as if that would help him to find it, to no avail. Charles found himself taking his handkerchief out of his pocket, and instead of offering it to Pickles, he started dabbing at the man’s face for him. They briefly made eye contact, and Charles’ soft touch lingered on the man’s jaw.

“Theenks,” Pickles said quietly, batting his light eyelashes. 

A quiet moment passed between them, and Charles hurriedly retracted his hand. “Ah, no problem,” he said, clearing his throat. “Well, I should get back to, uh, what I was doing. Goodnight, Pickles,” he said, hastily standing up. He felt embarrassed for getting touchy like that, even if it had been pretty tame. 

Pickles smirked in that way he always did, and Charles couldn’t tell just what  he was thinking, which only made his growing anxiety worse. 

“G’night, Chuck. Oh,” he said pointing at the plate, “‘n you can keep those.”

When Pickles left, Charles found a home for the rest of the cinnamon buns and wrapped them up so they wouldn’t go stale, then finally headed to bed. He didn’t feel very relaxed when his head hit the pillow. Now he was up thinking about Pickles’ invitation, the kindness of leaving him those cinnamon buns, and the tease of a present. But most of all, a few words stuck with Charles that made him smile as he closed his eyes, and the sincerity of which eventually helped him to sleep: 

_ 'I’m askin’ as your  _ friend _.' _


End file.
